<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Red by SparklingDragonTears</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23690281">Red</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparklingDragonTears/pseuds/SparklingDragonTears'>SparklingDragonTears</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Partners [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, FF7R - Fandom, Final Fantasy VII</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aliases, And also a killer, Blood and Violence, Bloodlust, Cigarettes, Corporal Punishment, Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Mentor Rude, Mentor/Protégé, Recreational Drug Use, Rude is a softie, ShinRa Mafia, Shinra Company, Turks (Compilation of FFVII), Underage Drug Use</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:26:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,368</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23690281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparklingDragonTears/pseuds/SparklingDragonTears</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rude is 26 when he's tasked to recruit some slum punk gang kid, who goes by the name of 'Red'.<br/>He could see instantly why the boss had wanted this kid. It was obvious that Red would be no SOLDIER.<br/>This kid was born to raise hell wherever he went.<br/>--<br/>Rude takes the little punk from the streets all the way up to the best damn agent the Turks will ever have.<br/>Never mind that Reno saved him somewhere along the way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Partners [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711810</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Recruit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>4 slices of R/R life over 10 years.<br/>Miko is Rude's mentor and partner.<br/>Turks are a mob-like entity, that exist as a secret step-child of ShinRa.<br/>Brutal training makes brutal killers.</p>
<p>--<br/>I jumped on the bandwagon. FF7R is so good. My poor little fangirl heart couldn't help but fall in love with and torture my two new favorite villains.<br/>Full disclosure, I've only played FF7 once, saw Advent Children once, and have almost finished FF7R at time of writing this. I'm not quite as deep into the fandom as my TW obsession.<br/>(Not to say I haven't read way too many fics already.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rude climbed out of the passenger seat, leaving his partner waiting at the wheel, engine idling. He grumbled to himself while looking around the broken streets, cursing that he’d been designated to seek out some stupid punk, his punishment for leaving his partner open in the last fight. He supposed the only reason he walked away without taking a cane to his ribs or thighs was because he took the bastard down after the first shot at Miko’s chest. It probably helped his case a lot that none of the Turks had been injured in the process. Miko may put him through the ringer, but at least the asshole had his back when it was in his interest. Never mind that extra bruises might slow him down the next time, those things didn’t matter to the bosses, as they all had to learn at one point or another.</p><p>So now here he was, wandering the Sector 4 slums, feeling entirely out of place in his pressed suit, while the people on the street watched him find his way into a grimy alleyway between two taller ramshackle buildings. There were three teenagers hanging around, sitting on broken pallets, smoking cigarettes. They were quiet, tense, watching him come closer. Rude watched one of the kids idly finger a crowbar that leaned across his dangling legs. Another stood, one arm resting against the bottom of a broken fire escape, the other reaching casually behind his back, no doubt grabbing for whatever weapon rested there. The third kid didn’t bother to move, eyeballing the Turk, lazily blowing smoke.</p><p>“Who’re you here for?” The third kid asked, flipping his dark, grungy hair from his eyes. </p><p>Rude supposed it was well-known that the Turks only came around when they wanted something, especially to these parts, where it was no secret that the gangs ran wild.</p><p>“Goes by ‘Red’.” Rude answered shortly, crossing his arms and leaning his weight on one leg. </p><p>He didn’t miss the kids glancing at one another before the last kid stood, finally facing the man before him. He looked Rude up and down, neither threatening, nor friendly. He scoffed lightly and spoke around the cigarette hanging from his lips.</p><p>“He sure as hell ain’t interested in the likes of you.” He stared Rude down while the kid on the fire escape tugged himself upward, climbing to the roof. Rude glanced between the teenagers, noting they all had piss-poor scratch tattoos on their forearms that looked to be a black circle with two crossed red arches.</p><p>Crowbar came up behind Grunge Kid and tapped the metal on his shoulder like a baseball bat. He spit his cigarette butt on the ground and let it glow. Rude resisted sighing, he really didn’t want to bust them up. He just wanted to make his offer and leave without a fuss.</p><p>“Why don’t you let him decide?” He asked calmly, keeping an eye on the kid above them.</p><p>GK held out an arm to stop Crowbar from stepping forward. Rude heard the shrieking whistle from Rooftop, followed by echoing distant whistles, all in short three bursts. He narrowed his eyes behind the glasses, patience drawing thin.</p><p>“Calling for reinforcements?” He asked flatly. “You know who I am, right?”</p><p>GK smirked his way and shrugged.</p><p>“All’s I know is now he knows you’re here.” He had the audacity to turn his back on Rude, going to sit back on his trash throne. “If he wants to, he’ll come.”</p><p>Crowbar postured, stepping between their little ringleader and Rude. The Turk exhaled sharply through his nose and turned to leave without a word. He listened for the kids to come up behind him, but none followed.</p><p>By the time Rude got back to the car, he wasn’t surprised to see Miko leaning on the door, keys flipping between his fingers.</p><p>“Heard the call,” he nodded his prematurely greying hair to the rooftops. “More coming?”</p><p>Rude finally let out the sigh he’d been resisting. He took his place beside his partner, leaning back and watching the streets around them, listening for what, he wasn’t quite sure.</p><p>“Punk kids.” He grumbled. “Said he would know we’re here.” </p><p>Miko nodded and stretched above his head. He looked at the plate hanging over them, blocking the sky. The wires and pipes and lights were almost hidden behind the Sun Lamps. Almost.</p><p>They waited five minutes before Miko shifted, cracking his neck, a tell he had when he was bored. Rude turned to look around them, to see if anyone matching this kid’s description was around. He was about to give up, consequences be damned, when a teenager with materia-bright red hair came sauntering around a corner. </p><p>He was alone, strolling unhurried, swinging a metal rod from one hand, the other shoved into a pocket of his torn and frayed black jeans. His shirtsleeves were torn off, and even from down the street, Rude could see the chains dangling around his neck and hips, the thick metal bands closed around his wrists, shining with a familiar glow.</p><p>Rude nudged Miko’s side and they stood to face the kid as he smirked at them from down the dirt path. He took his sweet time, but eventually stopped before them. Rude saw the track marks scarred into the kid’s forearms. Plate-quality, sharp-lined red ink curved around the kid’s bright, glassy eyes. Rude quickly recognized the arches as the same in the alley kids’ tattoos.</p><p>“Turks, huh?” The kid asked, smug and a little slurred. “Here for me, yo?”</p><p>“Red,” Rude guessed. This seemed to amuse him further, and he grinned, a wicked, blinding move that made Rude second-guess himself for a moment.</p><p>“You know why we’re here.” Miko chimed in. Rude could feel the heat threatening his cheeks at the silent reprimand to focus the hell up.</p><p>“‘<i>A better life</i>’?” Red asked, quoting the recruitment propaganda with sarcasm dripping heavily. “Maybe you hadn’t noticed, yo, but I’m doin’ alright.”</p><p>He flicked his wrist, the materia in the heavy bands shining brightly. Rude looked him over. The little gang leader couldn’t be hardly older than 17. He was skin and bones, but Rude suspected it had more to do with whatever mako-infused shit was making his eyes shine than having nothing to eat. He could smell the smoke clinging to the kid’s clothes, see the rounded bruises decorating his collar bone from under the torn collar of his dark shirt.</p><p>Rude narrowed his eyes, looking over the top of his glasses in a way he knew intimidated others because of his sheer height. He took a step forward and glared down at Red.</p><p>“How’d you afford the Glow, kid?” He laced his words with heavy innuendo, nodding at the marks along Red’s throat. It seemed to spark something in the punk, the way he bristled and frowned.</p><p>“I got a whole city of <i>Redlings</i>, yo.” He drawled, shifting and swinging his metal bar in little circles.</p><p>“Look,” Rude snapped, gruff and growling. “You get food, housing, money, training. We’re only going to offer once.”</p><p>He could feel Miko stiffen beside him. This wasn’t his usual tactic. The assignment was to offer and make sure they accepted. It was usually an easy, if inconvenient, task, as most slum kids were desperate and starving, and ShinRa was a promise of a better life. The ones who weren’t readily willing, were typically easily persuaded. The ones who <i>still</i> weren’t, tended to bend to Rude’s threats. He always got stuck with the challenging ones- the perk of being a tall, stoic wall of muscle.</p><p>They stood in a quiet standoff for a moment, Red’s eyes losing some of their shine, beginning to focus on the men in suits. Rude waited him out, about five seconds from walking. Miko, always having his back, said nothing, presumably staring Red down in a likewise fashion. </p><p>“Contract?” Red finally asked, albeit suspiciously. </p><p>Rude nodded once.</p><p>“How long?” Red demanded, blinking heavily, seemingly coming to. </p><p>Rude could see instantly why the boss had wanted this kid. He was unafraid, probably stupidly so. He was obviously well-respected, having some sort of organized power over the lost kids of this place. He probably had very few qualms about doing what needed to be done for money, judging by the scars of the expensive hobby he very clearly took part in. </p><p>And he was the only kid Rude had ever heard ask about the future after joining. It almost made him want to rescind the offer, keep this street-smart kid from this life. </p><p>As flustered as he was, he forced himself to keep his cool. All he had to do was get the asshole back to HQ, and he was redeemed. This little punk would probably be shoved into SOLDIER and flunk out of training the first month and Rude would never see him again.</p><p>As though reading his mind, the kid stepped forward with a cocky, knowing grin. He got right into Rude’s face, close enough that he could see the leftover mako sparking in the bright eyes. They both knew why Rude was here. It was obvious that Red would be no SOLDIER.</p><p>“Depends.” Rude answered unhelpfully. Red glared up at him fearlessly.</p><p>“Not very convincing,” His voice was light, teasing, but his face was hard.</p><p>He didn’t know what made him do it. Later on, he was sure to regret it if this didn’t work. Rude lashed out and grabbed the kid by his obnoxious hair, fisting deep to the root. Red became pliant as Rude maneuvered him almost against his chest, eyes wide and staring into the dark glasses.</p><p>“Listen, you little slum rat,” Rude grit through his teeth. “I don’t care one way or another, but my boss will have my hide if I don’t make it <i>perfectly</i> clear to you that the Turks want you. And Turks get what they want, one way or another. Understood?”</p><p>The little brat actually laughed. Rude was ready to put his fist through that smug face right here and be done with it. Miko’s hand landed on his shoulder, fingers digging in tightly. He tugged Rude backwards, forcing him to drop his hold on the ridiculously soft hair. </p><p>“I think we’re done here.” Miko said stiffly. He tugged Rude back, turning him toward the car door.</p><p>Rude climbed in without another look at Red. The bratty voice piped up from behind him, stopping him just inches from closing the door. Miko halted opening his own door with a raised eyebrow, looking over the top of the shining black vehicle.</p><p>“Never said no,” Red called, still stood where Rude dropped him. </p><p>Miko ducked down to look through his open door at Rude. He jerked his head to the kid. Rude ground his teeth, but unfolded again from the car.</p><p>“Right now, Red.” Rude demanded, opening the back door for him. “Yes or no.” </p><p>He raised a bright red eyebrow challengingly, but stepped forward, swinging that damned pipe carelessly. He almost caught Rude in the leg, but twisted his wrist away without a glance.</p><p>Rude could see it already; This kid was born to raise hell wherever he went.</p><p>“Name’s Reno, yo.” He said just low enough for Rude to catch, before climbing in the back seat and closing himself behind the mirrored window with a smirk.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Fury</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aftermath.<br/>Reno is punished, far more than training dictates. Rude is furious.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mentors are also punished when their mentees fuck up.<br/>Mentees eventually become partners if they are successful.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rude knocked on his mentee’s door in the early hours of the morning. He knew he wouldn’t be sleeping. He knew the kid was probably in too much pain to move, never mind relaxing to sleep. He’d heard Reno’s sentencing from the supervisors after he’d shrugged off their training protocol again. He was led away by the training officers, full of that damned teenage bravery. Rude took a few lashes to remind him to keep a better eye on his student. As his mentor, Rude was given one healing potion to distribute as he saw fit. Mentors typically took it for themselves, usually making the other watch, as a reminder of their place. Rude himself, had a couple scars from those lessons.</p>
<p>He tried the doorknob after a moment of quiet, finding it open. He creaked the door slowly, peeking into the dark room. He could hear the ragged breathing from the living area of the apartment. Quietly closing the door behind him, he stepped into the room.</p>
<p>“Reno?” He called, just to be polite. He followed the groan toward the couch, bracing himself to what he might see. “Oh fuck…”</p>
<p>Reno's light trainee suit coat was thrown over the back of the couch with the white dress shirt, now stained with blood across the back. Deep bruises curled around the kid’s back and over his ribs, disappearing where his stomach lay against the couch. His wild hair had fallen flat, tangled with sweat. His arms curled up under his head, keeping his bruised face from pressing into the couch cushions. Blood had dried over the kid’s lips, streamed from his nose and somewhere he’d bitten inside his mouth. A few lines on his back still oozed lightly with deep red.</p>
<p>The eye facing Rude was swollen shut, ringed in deep purple. He breathed shallowly through parted, cracked lips. He had grown taller in the last few months in this shithole, but he was still far too skinny for Rude’s liking. Now, covered in sickening colors, the ribs he could usually count seemed even closer to the skin than before.</p>
<p>Rude stepped up to his side, fingertips coming gently to the kid’s ear. He brushed back into the usually soft hair, trying not to tug at the knots. Reno whimpered deep in his throat, but didn’t move a muscle.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Red.” Rude whispered. He knew the kid would never accept his apology, but his heart was clenching furiously at the brutality his co-workers had wreaked. This was beyond necessary and there was no way they didn’t know it. Reno’s smart mouth probably brought a lot of this on, but he shouldn’t have been laid out. Rude’s own stinging skin was nothing but a reminder that he’d failed to keep the kid safe.</p>
<p>Although it pained him to do so, he took the kid by the shoulder and turned him to his side, as carefully as he could. Reno’s face screwed tight and a pitiful sobbing groan escaped his throat, effectively rending Rude’s heart in two. He took the bottle from his pocket and pulled the cork with his teeth. As gently as his large fingers would allow, he tipped Reno’s head back just enough that the kid hopefully wouldn’t choke. He tipped the small bottle slowly, letting the glowing liquid slide down Reno’s throat a few drops at a time, not sure if he could even swallow.</p>
<p>When the bottle was empty, Rude set it on the coffee table behind him and rolled Reno back to his front. He sat quietly for a few minutes, just watching Reno’s back rise and fall shallowly. He heard a clock somewhere in another room chime 4:00.</p>
<p>Rude stood again after Reno’s breath finally stopped shuddering, evening out into a slow rhythm. He shook out the sleep in his feet and went to root around the kid’s bathroom for a first aid kit. He found it stashed under the sink, pleased to find it open and missing several packets. It had been a fight to even get him to take the damn thing, the brat insisting he’d never needed one before and didn’t need it now. He was glad to see that some of the painkillers and ice packs were now gone.</p>
<p>Working slowly and as carefully as possible, Rude dabbed at the cuts along his trainee’s skin, bandaging the worst of them. He took a wet cloth and at least tried to wipe the sweat from the back of the kid’s neck and arms. He didn’t dare try to move him, or even ice the worst bruises. Now that Reno had fallen asleep, he didn’t want to wake him up for the world.</p>
<p>As he packed away the feeble remnants of the first aid kit, Rude began to get truly angry. It wasn’t often he allowed himself to feel the rage inside of him. He only let it slip when he <i>needed</i> to, when he had to snap bones and cut through flesh and not feel a damned thing while doing it. He’d only felt this fury at his own training, something that pushed him into the ruthless killer he rarely let show. Miko had beaten it into him without apology, and consequently, the only other time he’d ever let the beast inside free was when Miko’s life was in danger. Even when his own life was threatened, he was calculated, a mercenary at best. </p>
<p>Determined not to let his future partner die in his sleep, Rude sat on the floor beside the kid’s couch, leaning his head back into the cushions. He was about to fall asleep when a text came through his device, buzzing angrily in his pocket. He fished it out, furious as Tseng’s name flashed across the screen. </p>
<p>
  <i>You’re with him?</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Yes.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Thought as much. Take the week. Get him better. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I want their names.</i>
</p>
<p>Rude was ready to threaten his own boss as the minutes stretched by without a reply. He lifted his thumbs to type, when a list of five training officers popped up with a single message:</p>
<p>
  <i>Make them afraid.</i>
</p>
<p>Rude grinned in the dark, sliding his phone away. He felt the monster inside of him clawing to the surface and remembered why he was <i>fucking good</i> at his job. </p>
<p>It would be a cold day in hell before any of them thought about touching his partner again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>&lt;3<br/>-J X</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Electric</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Rude had to be the one to drag Reno from the edge when he was rolling on a battle high.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Drugs and Reno/Rude warning.</p>
<p>Miko works alone now, R&amp;R are partners.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Reno always got worked up during a fight. It was no wonder electricity was his preferred weapon, the kid was lightning incarnate. Afterwards, Reno would be lit up, a live wire, bouncing on his toes, eyes wide, fingers still twitching around his mag rod, riding the high. It wasn’t surprising the kid had been an addict.</p>
<p>Rude had learned the hard way to quickly drag Reno away, for the safety of those left alive, lest they become casualties. He had learned there were few things that could bring his partner back to him, most of which were forms of destruction, self-inflicted or otherwise.</p>
<p>The first time he’d let him go on his own, he’d disappeared for days, leaving a wake of death that Rude had to clean up before Tseng had them both executed. When he’d found the little asshole, he was in a puddle of his own sweat, melted into an old mattress, in the depths of his old slums, eyes as glass as a doll, the inside of his arms caked with bloody pin pricks. </p>
<p>It only took two days of groveling before Rude broke, pulling the kid into his arms, holding him tight, fingers tangled in that awful, obnoxious, soft hair that had finally been washed. Reno swore up and down that he was over it, begged Rude not to leave him alone, promised he would be a better partner. </p>
<p>Rude would never admit that he had been terrified he’d lost him.</p>
<p>Reno’s fingers had twitched for days, but he never dropped his usual grin. A few times, Rude caught him sliding the mirrored goggles over his bloodshot eyes and fisting his hands in his pockets, tremble given away only because Rude <i>noticed</i>. </p>
<p>But, true to his promise, Reno crawled back from his crash, never once asking for help, never once turning down a job in the meantime. Rude had taken a few extra hits for the kid when he occasionally swayed on his feet, being sure to remember to force him to eat more the next meal they shared. </p>
<p>After a few weeks of normal, casual violence and threats, Reno had reverted to busting skulls and staring into faces while he blinded them with electricity. Rude almost beat him upside the head when he caught him shooting short bolts into his own leg, groaning in some twisted ecstasy before turning wild eyes on the thug sprawled at his feet. His surprise came when Reno let himself be easily pulled away. </p>
<p>He barely resisted smacking the crazed smirk from the kid’s face, seeing the challenge in the bright eyes. Rude only held back because the knuckles of his own gloves were stained with blood. They were both fucked up. At least Reno had Rude to keep him in balance, whatever sick definition that might have been.</p>
<p>And the next time they were sent in to take care of business SOLDIERs couldn’t handle, they were ruthless as ever. After, Rude clasped a bloodied hand around Reno’s wrist, dragging him into the ShinRa car before he could run. He drove them back to his apartment, watching the kid radiate in his seat beside him, fingers twitching on the EMR. When they got back, he shoved Reno up the stairs and locked them in his apartment. </p>
<p>Reno responded to the manhandling as he always did- becoming dazed and pliant. Rude pushed him to his knees, and Reno dropped willingly. Shaking fingers dragged up Rude’s legs, twitching at his belt, trying to hold back. He looked up, pupils blown almost completely. Rude hesitated. This hadn’t been his goal. He would be lying to say he’d never thought about silencing that sharp tongue in filthy ways, but with Reno practically out of his mind, his own heart still slamming in his chest, it felt wrong.</p>
<p>“C’mon, partner.” Reno prodded, tugging lightly at his belt loops. “<i>Need</i> it, yo.”</p>
<p>Who was he kidding, he could never deny Reno. He ran his thumbs over the perfect red lines around his eyes. He ran one dark hand around the back of the kid’s neck, pressing heavily.</p>
<p>“You sure?” Was all he could strangle out. Reno grinned blindingly.</p>
<p>Without replying, his fingers tugged his partner free from his dirty slacks, and those sinful lips closed around him. Rude groaned at the sudden heat. He tried valiantly to hold still, until long fingers snaked behind him and tugged his ass forward. </p>
<p>Rude gave up all fight and fucked forward into the wet heat, hand sliding up to lock the red hair in place.</p>
<p>Reno’s eyes shone with tears, but he pressed on until Rude lost it, coming down his throat and yanking his long hair to pull him to his feet. Rude’s lips crashed against his own and his free hand shoved into the front of Reno’s slacks, making short work of him with surprisingly soft, thick fingers.</p>
<p>Reno panted against sharp teeth, letting Rude take what he wanted from his body, until stinging bites became apologetic kisses. </p>
<p>Before Rude crushed himself with guilt, Reno took him by the hand, leading him until they collapsed in Rude's bed, still in filthy suits. He pulled Rude’s arm around him, letting the man’s fingertips press against his chest, wiggling under the open dress shirt.</p>
<p>Rude felt the heartbeat against his fingers, the calm breathing of his partner beginning to lull him away from the day.</p>
<p>He tugged lightly at the open jacket. He’d taken a few reprimands from the kid’s careless approach to the uniform. Rude smirked to himself as he ran his fingers over a nipple and Reno squirmed. He decided right then that Reno could wear it however he damn well pleased, regulations be damned. Reno was lightning anyway, no one would ever bottle him, even if Rude got close.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading. &lt;3<br/>-J X</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Partner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>10 years later and they're the only ones who truly understand each other.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(The implication is that Rude will work alone after Reno trains a new recruit and eventually becomes their partner.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rude was 36 now, the age when Turks either slowed down or carried on until retirement (or death). He contemplated this while leaning against a brick building in the slums of Sector 4, watching his partner press the EMR into some drug lord’s temple. If he didn’t kill him, Rude would have to. While Reno had no qualms about leaving people to die alone, Rude couldn’t help the soft spot inside him that made him end their suffering. Reno usually didn’t tease him about it.</p>
<p><i>Red.</i> He thought, watching the graceful arc of the mag rod as sparks disappeared into the air, sizzling with wet blood. Reno’s eyes were pinning the man to the ground, although he was a spasming mess who probably couldn’t stand even if Reno let him.</p>
<p>This one was a personal vendetta that Rude let him resolve on his own, only there as backup if things got nasty. Reno hadn’t explained, but after 10 years, he knew his partner’s every tell. The clench in his teeth meant this one had wronged him personally. The twitch at his left eye meant it had to do with his drugged-out days. The way he swung the baton from his left hand to his right meant the redhead was willing to get his hands dirty to kill this particular demon.</p>
<p>Rude wasn’t sure he wanted to know.</p>
<p>It was a ballet, Rude thought, flexing his fingers to crack his knuckles. Reno had <i>transformed</i> in his time as a Turk. Where he was brilliant, he was headstrong. He’d taken no more than a year to fine-tune his slum street fighting into a precise, lethal combat, which rarely seemed to satisfy the craving for carnage lurking under his pale skin. Rude suspected the modified weapon had to do with this as he watched the thug cringe away from the pop when Reno lit up the wand again. Rude glanced to his partner’s fingerless gloves, thinking about the way those long fingers danced over the buttons on the helicopter panels, with the redhead barely needing to look at them. It had taken only months for the controls to become second nature to him, where Rude still double-checked, just to be sure he wasn’t about to drop them from the sky by mistake. Rude knew he was one of the best of them, callous, strong, determined, <i>skilled</i>. And watching his partner's effortless, elegant dance of torture, Rude reaffirmed what he’d always known would be the case; Reno was <i>better</i>.</p>
<p>Ten years, and little Red was still a punk slum kid in his head. But the little asshole had become his better half, no matter how many times Reno insisted Rude saved his life. Reno kept him grounded, in the moment, keeping his own animalistic demons from escaping in a way that Miko never could. The kid had tamed him, worked him into a frenzy with his own wild energy in the moments he needed it most, and then dragged him back to reality with his lips and teeth and tongue, time and time again. </p>
<p>And something about Reno made Rude jump to take the fall for the redhead’s manic impulses, perhaps just as masochistic as the punk himself. Reno on his knees was reward enough, simultaneously torturous when he caught the scars in the crook of the man’s elbows and remembered the ugly necklace of bruises that probably helped them get there. </p>
<p>It had taken a long while for Rude to trust that Reno wanted to be there, not that he felt indebted.</p>
<p>Usually, the kid couldn’t stop the running commentary spilling from his wicked tongue. Days like today though, his own thoughts silenced him. Rude’s thoughts spiraled into filthy places, watching his partner’s lips pressing together. He only felt a little guilty about it, knowing the kid preferred Rude’s large hands to be what brought him back down.</p>
<p>Reno stopped moving suddenly, arms loose at his sides, breathing hard, staring down the lump of a body at his feet. Rude watched him sigh, collapsing the EMR and clipping it to his side. He turned slowly, finally meeting Rude’s stare. They’d long outgrown the need for orders and requests to one another. They worked as a well-oiled machine, moving in tandem, communicating easily with looks and silently raised eyebrows. The slow blink of the sparkling eyelids called Rude over, an exhausted plea.</p>
<p>Rude crossed the space between them in only a few steps. His arms were around the redhead without a word. Reno buried his face in Rude’s neck, and he felt the faint tremors running through him, feeling guilty that he hadn’t known Reno was holding this particular rage inside.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>That night was one of the few times Rude denied his partner what he wanted. Reno wanted to hurt. Rude made the redhead fuck him into the mattress instead. Afterward, Reno lay beside him, panting at the ceiling, making no contact, but close enough Rude could feel his body heat.</p>
<p>“How many’a those scars are cause’a me?” He breathed, not bothering to look over.</p>
<p>Rude shrugged, not willing to divulge this deeply-protected piece of Reno that kept him sane when they were apart, as rare as it was. He heard him turn and felt the bright eyes watching him.</p>
<p>“Saw the new one, yo.” Light fingers poked at Rude’s ribs where there was indeed the tail end of a thin scar wrapping around from his back. Potions and materia may heal them quickly, but scars were forever a reminder.</p>
<p>“My carelessness, not your actions.” Rude finally answered, knowing the prodding fingers wouldn’t otherwise cease. </p>
<p>Reno huffed through his nose, but didn’t reply for a moment. His fingers didn’t stop their burning trail over the discolored skin.</p>
<p>“Tseng or Miko?” Reno asked, something bitter in the back of his voice.</p>
<p>Rude closed his eyes and resisted groaning. This conversation was not something he’d planned on tonight, if ever.</p>
<p>“Miko retired last week.” Rude growled, something dark and lonely twisting deep in his gut.</p>
<p>“I know,” Reno admitted quietly. “You’ve been out of it since Monday.”</p>
<p>Of course Reno knew he was distracting himself, <i>punishing</i> himself tonight.</p>
<p>They were quiet for a few minutes, Rude twitching occasionally as Reno’s fingers brushed feather-light over his ribs.</p>
<p>“I’m not gonna do it,” Reno said offhandedly, like they had been having a conversation instead of their own thoughts in their heads. </p>
<p>Rude finally opened his eyes and turned his head to look over the redhead in the night light from the window. The kid’s pale skin glowed lightly, his tattoos a permanent dark shadow across his face.</p>
<p>“Mentor, yo.” He answered with an easy smile.</p>
<p>Rude scowled, too tired to voice his argument, knowing Reno already knew what he was going to say anyway. He knew that Reno had a lingering fear of the training program, perhaps the only thing that scared him. He didn’t think it was the violence he was afraid of, but the possibility of what he could become.</p>
<p>“Think you’re gettin’ rid’a me that easy?” He grinned, interrupting Rude’s darkening thoughts.</p>
<p>“Tseng wants you as an officer.” Rude pointed out gruffly.</p>
<p>“I will be.” Reno shrugged, ever the self-assured teenager Rude plucked from the streets years ago. Before Rude could protest, he continued. “Not a requirement, just tradition. ‘Sides, you think anyone else can handle me all day, every day?”</p>
<p>It went unsaid that Rude likely wouldn’t handle being a lone agent.</p>
<p>Rude sighed, reaching up and taking the dancing hand from his chest, tangling their fingers together.</p>
<p>“Not a damn soul.” He answered, lips twisting up on one side. </p>
<p>“Why’d ya turn down Miko’s spot?” Reno asked carefully, like Rude might shove him away.</p>
<p>(Rude would never shove Reno away.)</p>
<p>“Thought someone else was better for it.” He answered, looking over Reno’s face, watching his eyebrows draw together.</p>
<p>“Who the hell is better than you?” Reno demanded, clearly wracking his brain through the files of superiors he knew. </p>
<p>Rude shook his head and smiled. He closed his eyes and squeezed Reno’s fingers lightly.</p>
<p>“Go to sleep.” He answered instead, leaving his partner grunting irritatedly.</p>
<p>“Look, I’ll make a case for you,” Reno offered, shifting around to sit up. “Miko would-”</p>
<p>“<i>You</i>, dumbass.” Reno muttered through a yawn. He heard the catch in his partner’s breath and tugged on Reno’s hand without opening his eyes. He tilted up his chin, waiting for the lips to meet his own.</p>
<p>Reno didn’t disappoint.</p>
<p>Rude pulled the kid into his chest with a hand on the back of his neck, pleased when he tumbled down without fight. </p>
<p>It was good to know the even after all these years, he knew how to shut the kid up when he needed to.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(Happy ending. They'll always be partners. Reno will make sure of it.)</p>
<p>Thanks for reading.<br/>-J X</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Till next time my lovelies.<br/>-J X</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>